Skiing was exactly what you would expect. It began with oodles of excitement, slipped into a moment of fear, was immediately replaced with crying and frustration, and then finally we persevered,believed we could do it, and the excitement and smiles returned with two very proud Ethiopian skiers.
Bebs (left) had a particularly rough go in the middle section and was very close to quitting in a lovely fit. She and I took a little break right in the middle of the hill and sat down to talk through our options while we both calmed down. 
We decided to try one more letter c curve. When we stopped successfully we both noticed a shiny quarter in the snow between our skis. My mind went a thousand miles a minute and out came the best make believe story ever:
“Oh Bebs, look! A shiny quarter just for you!!! I can’t believe this is happening!! Do you know where this is from? The ski fairy (yup, I have sunk very low my friends) left this just for you! You have to put it in your pocket right away! – what, you don’t know about the ski fairy? Well, she is amazing. She knows exactly when little boys and girls are getting frustrated and just before they quit, she leaves them a bright shiny quarter! If you put it in your pocket, you will have special skiing power! She really doesn’t want you to give up Bebs! She knows that you can do this!”
The quarter was deposited in said pocket and low and behold, we could now ski! She wondered why the other kids didn’t get one, but I assured her that the ski fairy knew that she was very close to giving up and the fairy only helped the children who needed the most help.
I had moments of guilt. Really I did. But then I realized that we both knew there wasn’t a ski fairy. Playing along brought confidence and took our mind off the hard job of learning the snow plow correctly. We all have our fantasies, and this one helped my little girl learn to ski and believe in herself.
And now to our little sassy sprite. She’s been begging for straight hair for months. So today the extensions came out and the straightening iron was turned on. I even convinced her to let me give her a quick trim which is a huge step forward for her. Hair is a big deal at our house.
When you are adopted, you enter your new family without any possessions. Our girls had their names and their hair. (and the stories that came later once we could communicate) They had their hair cut once before and it was a traumatic experience for them. Just talking about haircuts sends them into a tizzy. And I get it. Really I do. They have very valid reasons for wanting to keep their hair long. But on the flip side, their hair is a lot of work to maintain. A LOT!! 
So even though I think they would look smashing with cute chin length bobs, (not to mention save me hours of work) I will keep finding new things to do with their hair. Straightening the hair is not something we do very often as it is damaging, but twice now I’ve done it for them and they always love the results – maybe too much, as today I was told that everyone would love her because she was so beautiful! Yes Princess Sassy, you are beautiful. (with a gentle reminder that she is beautiful on the inside too, and that’s what counts in the world of friendship)
Speaking of hair… I had my first rude moment at Christmas in the mall. Somewhere out there is a very nice, well meaning lady who I need to apologize to. After being in the mall for less that 40 minutes, she was the fourth person to ask about the girl’s hair while reaching to touch it… I told her “DON’T TOUCH HER HAIR!” which ended the conversation more abruptly than usual. I felt awful because I am usually so patient with people and talk with strangers all the time who are curious. But I had just had it. My girls have a right to wear their hair in braids and not have the general public touch said braids. I forgive little old ladies, because they did that with my bio kids too when they were young. (it’s a generational thing and they practice equal opportunity hair touching) I can’t get over the curious middle aged women though. I keep promising myself that next time I’ll run my hands through their hair and ask what product they use, but I keep chickening out. My real fear is one day I’ll snap and do something worse. Like run my hands through their husband’s hair while asking them, “isn’t it SO much fun to do his hair? I could do this all day!” oops… did I really think that? 
